


Down the Road

by carolinecrane



Series: Aftermath [17]
Category: The Brotherhood 2: Young Warlocks (2001)
Genre: Barebacking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-05
Updated: 2011-05-05
Packaged: 2017-10-19 01:00:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/195152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolinecrane/pseuds/carolinecrane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's starting to think this might be for real.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Down the Road

Six weeks. He's not marking the days off on a calendar or anything, but he can't help counting every one, and by the time they get to six weeks he thinks this thing between them might actually be real. As in Harlan might really want him around, might think of Marcus as more than just a replacement for Randall. As more than just something to do, and that's the part Marcus has the hardest time believing.

He doesn't get _why_ Harlan likes him, why he wants Marcus around when he could have…anyone. But it's Marcus' bed he's stretched out on, tie loose around his neck and shoes off and for once Marcus isn't worried about his roommate walking in on them. That's because his roommate went home for his brother's Bar Mitzvah or something, but Marcus doesn't tell Harlan that. He doesn't bring up the fact that they've got the room to themselves all afternoon – all weekend if they want – because he likes it just like this.

Just hanging out together, Harlan's arm tucked behind his head and Marcus propped up on his elbows next to him. He likes stealing occasional glances at Harlan to find the other boy looking right back at him, likes grinning just to watch Harlan grin back and he even likes when Harlan makes some lame comment about the history chapter they're supposed to be reading. He likes the way Harlan's thigh is pressed against his, the way his heel digs into Marcus' ankle on one side like Harlan just wants to touch him. And the weirdest part of all is that he's pretty sure that's true; another thing he doesn't get, but he's not going to argue about it.

He moves his leg experimentally, rolling just a little away and right on cue Harlan presses closer. Marcus isn't even sure he knows what he's doing, but he's not going to bring it up because he likes that Harlan wants to be close to him. He likes the heavy weight of Harlan against his side, likes the way they fit together and the fact that he doesn't have to pretend it's an accident when his hand brushes Harlan's side as he flips a page in his history book.

If he wanted to he could lean up and kiss Harlan right now, just lean over and press their lips together, and Harlan wouldn't even ask what Marcus thought he was doing. He wouldn't say anything at all, he'd just slide his hand into Marcus' hair and tilt his head just a little to get the perfect angle. And maybe Harlan's thinking the same thing Marcus is, because when he looks up Harlan's watching him like he's waiting for Marcus to make a move.

"What?"

"Spring break's week after next, right?"

"Yeah," Marcus answers, doing his best to keep his expression neutral because he doesn't want to think about spring break. He never wants to go home to his parents' house, but he wants to go even less this time because it means a whole week away from Harlan. A whole week for Harlan to think about what they're doing, to remember exactly _who_ he's sleeping with and maybe change his mind.

"You going home?"

"Can't stay here," Marcus says, shrugging like it doesn't really matter. "They close the dorms for the week."

"That doesn't mean you have to go home."

And he shouldn't really be surprised, because he's spent a few weekends at Harlan's house, but he's still not expecting the invitation. At least he hopes it's an invitation, but he tries not to let it show when he glances at Harlan again. "What about your parents?"

He knows better than to ask, because he's met Harlan's parents enough times to know that Harlan's right when he says they don't care. They don't care what he does or who he does it with, and it's not like they ignore Harlan all the time, but they don't seem to think it's weird that he brings Marcus home to stay in his room every other weekend. To sleep in his bed, and they have to know that part. But either they don't care or they don't want to think about it, and that's just fine with Marcus.

Right on cue Harlan rolls his eyes, shaking his head as Marcus gives up on his history book and lets it fall on the floor. "I keep telling you they don't care."

"Yeah, I know," Marcus says, rolling onto his side to look at Harlan, and his heart still skips a beat whenever Harlan grins at him like that. "I keep forgetting they're not like my parents."

"You wanna come home with me this weekend?" Harlan asks, reaches for Marcus' tie and tugging him a little closer. "You could refresh your memory or something."

Harlan's grin is weirdly distorted from this close up, and Marcus finds himself smiling back as he lets Harlan pull him into a kiss. He breathes in the scent of expensive cologne and Harlan's shampoo, and it still seems strange that he recognizes the scent. But he likes it, likes all the weird little things he knows about Harlan. His hand lands on Harlan's chest, pushing at his buttons until he works Harlan's shirt halfway open. Harlan's skin is warm under his hand, smooth and firm and when he finds a nipple Harlan gasps and pulls back to look at him.

"Why aren't you freaking out about your roommate?"

"He's gone," Marcus answers, leaning forward to press hot kisses to the underside of Harlan's jaw. "Won't be back until Sunday night."

As soon as he gets the words out he's moving, falling backwards and it takes him a second to realize Harlan's pushing him. Then he's flat on his back and looking up, blinking at Harlan's familiar grin. "Why didn't you say so earlier, Marcus?"

All he can do is laugh at that, but it doesn't matter because Harlan's not interested in an answer. What he's interested in is getting Marcus out of his clothes as quickly as possible, and by the time Marcus' uniform is scattered across the floor he's hard and arching up in a vain effort to find a little contact. Harlan's hand lands on his hip, holding him against the mattress and ignoring Marcus' frustrated groan.

For a second he just looks, gaze wandering the length of Marcus' body and he should be used to this by now, but it still makes him blush. He reaches for Harlan's tie, tugging it off his neck and tossing it on the floor before he turns back to Harlan's shirt. And Harlan's still watching him, but at least now he's got something to do with his hands. It doesn't make him feel any less conspicuous, but it gives him something to look at, and eventually he relaxes enough to let his blush subside.

"You didn't answer me," Harlan says, voice low and Marcus' heart skips a beat at his expression.

"What?"

His hands are on Harlan's uniform pants just above the button, fingers warm from the heat of Harlan's body and he's having a hard time processing actual thoughts, but he's pretty sure Harlan's laughing at him. Not that he cares, because Harlan's half naked and hovering above him, gaze wandering the length of Marcus' neck like he's trying to decide which part of his skin to mark first.

"Are you going home for spring break?"

"Oh," he says, then, "no," because he thought they'd already settled this, but if Harlan wants to hear him say it he will. "Unless you didn't mean what you said."

"I always mean what I say," Harlan answers, mouth a lot closer now and Marcus leans up to kiss him again. Harlan's lips part under his, a low groan catching in his throat when Marcus gets his pants open and slides a hand inside. He thinks maybe Harlan's going to let Marcus make him come just like this, leaning over him and thrusting into Marcus' grip. But way too soon he's pulling away, kicking the rest of his clothes off to land at the foot of the bed before he settles on top of Marcus and presses their mouths together again.

He thrusts lazily, like they've got all the time in the world and technically they do. There's nobody to bother them, no one to stop by and knock on the door or even wonder where they are. If anybody knows they're in here they don't care, and the thought makes Marcus tighten his grip on Harlan's shoulders to pull him impossibly closer. He hooks one leg around Harlan's waist, rocking up in time to his thrusts and it feels good, but it's not even close to enough.

 _Please_ , he thinks, might even say it out loud because as soon as he thinks it Harlan's tightening his grip and flipping them over, and suddenly he's looking down at Harlan's intense expression. His eyes are dark and it's hard to believe that expression is because of Marcus, but he can't think about it for long because Harlan's sliding one hand between them to grip Marcus' cock.

"Tell me what you want, Marcus." Whispered in his ear, sending a shiver down his spine and he thrusts hard into Harlan's grip, squeezing his eyes shut against the urge to come. And he's not even sure how to answer, because he wants everything at once. Wants Harlan inside him, fingers working him open and then his cock, wants Harlan's mouth on him but his hand feels too good to give up and he isn't sure how to say any of it.

A few seconds later it doesn't matter, because he's tensing against Harlan and coming, wet heat coating Harlan's fingers and his stomach and he still wants more. Wants come-coated fingers pressing inside him, moaning when Harlan pushes two fingers in. He's still trying to catch his breath, but he forces himself to relax anyway, pushing back against Harlan's hand until he's all the way in. He leans forward for a hard kiss, teeth clashing and the taste of Harlan on his tongue and it's not that hard to believe Harlan wants him around for a whole week when he's kissing Marcus back like he can't get enough.

Like he _needs_ Marcus, and it's stupid but Marcus lets himself think it anyway. Because Harlan wants him around even after all this time – maybe even more now than at the beginning – and there's no way he'd say no to that. He pulls away to gasp for breath, a moan escaping him when Harlan's fingers disappear only to push right back in again. And he wants more, rocks back to show Harlan exactly what he needs, earning him a murmured 'fuck, Marcus' and he wants to laugh at that, because it's exactly what he had in mind.

Only he can't catch his breath long enough to make a sound, and when Harlan's cock replaces his fingers all Marcus can do is close his eyes and hold on. Harlan's knees are bent, hips thrusting up against him and he's not taking it slow. Marcus hooks his hands behind Harlan's neck, pushing back against him and it takes them awhile to find a rhythm that works, but when they do he knows Harlan's not going to last long. He's moving way too fast, breathing hard with each thrust and long before Marcus is ready for it to end Harlan's tensing and coming inside him.

He moves first, sliding off Harlan's lap to collapse on the mattress and he's not sure what to do about his wrecked comforter. That's not exactly the kind of thing he can just sneak into the laundry, but maybe he can talk Harlan into taking it back to his house to wash over the weekend.

He feels Harlan shift next to him, feels warm lips brush his shoulder before Harlan settles back against the mattress. "You ever go dancing?"

"What?" Marcus asks, the question surprising him enough to force him to look up at the other boy.

"I asked if you've ever been dancing," Harlan answers, and he's not looking at Marcus but he's smiling that smile that tells Marcus he's missing some joke. "There's this club in the city, we could go over break."

"You've been before?"

Harlan shrugs, shoulder brushing Marcus' in the process and Marcus finds himself moving closer to the warmth. "A couple times with Randall and Alex and Trini. Mary never wanted to go, but I guess she was too busy mooning over Van Owen even then."

His stomach flutters at the thought, because it's one thing to spend the week at Harlan's house, but going to some strange club is totally different. A club where people will see them together, maybe even people who know them. Only Harlan doesn't care about that stuff – wouldn't care if the door opened right now and Marcus' roommate walked in to find them like this – so Marcus swallows against the ball of nerves in his stomach.

"Do I need an I.D.? Because I've got one, but it's not that great."

"Don't worry about it, Marcus." Harlan turns onto his side, pushing himself up on one elbow as he says it. He leans in to brush another kiss across Marcus' lips, pulling back before Marcus can drag him closer. "Trust me, you'll love it."


End file.
